


Give voice to the myriad of unsaid thoughts

by AlphaBanana



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: (because i don't know how ratings work oops), Body Image, F/F, F/M, M/M, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 8,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaBanana/pseuds/AlphaBanana
Summary: 31 Days of Wayhaven, October 2020(Some days out of order)
Relationships: Detective/Falk (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Falk (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Felix Hauville, Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Natalie "Nat" Sewell, Male Detective/Adam du Mortain/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	1. Sharp - Mason x Detective Riona Lovelace

_Soft_. Even pointing a gun at Adam’s chest, the Detective had been all soft curves and soft scent, and with hazy morning light streaming through the precinct windows, it was only enhanced. Warm, hazel eyes looked over each of them in turn, lined up like toy soldiers at Agent Lovelace’s command, and Mason rolled a lighter between his fingers to ease some of the tension.

The Detective’s eyes lingered on Adam for a moment, narrowing when she heard the distinctive timbre of his voice, and Mason allowed himself to turn to Nate for a moment with an exaggerated gesture. _Told you so_.

If she knew, however, she refused to say, and maybe she wasn’t all soft. Maybe she had a sharp side - if she was half as smart as Rebecca, she would be twice as smart as he had expected from her floral frills and sweet-smelling coffee.

And as grey eyes dragged down soft, voluptuous curves (dangerous, with her mother _right there_ \- but what was life without a little danger?), Mason noted that she was by no means his normal type…but he found himself wondering all the same just how many different sides of her she would let him see.

“And you are?” One immaculately plucked eyebrow disappeared into chocolate curls (he wondered for a moment what those curls would feel like with his fingers tangled in them) and he resisted the urge to flirt, for the sake of Nate’s…blood pressure. _We do not flirt with protection targets, Mason_.

“Finding all of this unnecessary.” It seemed as good an avenue as any to make his views known to Rebecca, who in turn narrowed slightly darker, cooler eyes at his insolence, opening her mouth before being cut off–

“That’s a little long - got a shorter one?” Soft, plush lips twisted at one corner as if trying valiantly not to smile triumphantly at Felix’s laugh and Nate’s warm smile. Mason couldn’t decide whether he wanted to scowl or smirk, and seemed to settle on a snarl somewhere in the middle, too angry to be charming, too wolfish not to suggest something…with more heat.

 _Sharp and sweet_.


	2. Monster - Felix and Detective Bess Broussard

Felix watched Bess laugh at some inside joke with Tina and felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. Was he anxious? Surely not - he had never felt anything other than at home in the Detective’s presence, even when she had brandished pepper spray in his face on that very first night. Sad? Surely not - seeing Bess smile made his heart flutter round the edges like the most fragile of butterflies. Jealous?

Now _that_ was a thought.

Because however much he felt like they could understand each other, even that their heartbeats could be in sync…there were experiences that he had never shared, would never be able to share with her, and that hurt, even more than her anxiety around the supernatural. _If she’s scared of the supernatural, is she scared of me?_ And suddenly he felt a powerful need to be with her, to reassure her with whatever warmth he had that he was–

“Felix, you coming?” Bess’ smile was wide and warm, dark lips spreading to reveal pearly white teeth underneath. A smile he cherished, more like the smiles she had given him before she had found out that he was inhuman. He returned it gratefully, holding the door open for her and gesturing theatrically, laughing at her answering curtsey.

They walked in comfortable silence for a minute or two, with Felix trying not to focus on her heartbeat and the small, appraising glances she stole when she thought he wasn’t looking. Eventually, she pulled them to sit on a nearby bench, and Felix had to strangle a smile at the warmth that zipped along his spine at the feeling of warm skin on his.

“You ok? You seem a little…distracted.” Bess’ amber eyes were warm and concerned, and he smiled at the thought that she minded.

“I was worried–worried that you were worried. About the whole…monster thing.” He whispered the last part, storing away her giggle at his conspiratorial tone.

“I mean it’s definitely…something to think about.” A rare frown creased her forehead then, and he resisted the urge to smooth it out with his fingers. “But–” Amber depths widened in understanding. “But I could never be anxious around you!”

“You don’t need to–”

“Oh, but I couldn’t!” Bess was wringing her hands now, and Felix felt almost guilty. “You’re–you’re too–”

“Too…?”

“Important to me.” A whisper so quiet that even he had difficulty hearing it, but when he did he smiled more widely than he ever had, and bowed his head close to the shell of her ear.

“You’re important too. And funny. And sweet.” _And beautiful_ , although that seemed a little much for a Tuesday afternoon. Bess turned to face him then, and their hearts simultaneously skipped a beat as they realised how close they were to each other. Golden eyes thought they had seen the slightest flicker of movement, as if she were tensing her muscles to move forward, and then–

“Productive patrol, then.”

 _Fucking Mason_. Bess pulled away, stammering something about a quiet afternoon and nothing-to-report, before almost running back to the precinct under the pretense of getting her coat, looking back at Felix once with flaming cheeks.

Felix turned to Mason with an uncharacteristically frustrated expression on his face, ignoring Mason’s smirk.

“Gee, thanks, Mason.”

_Still, if Bess doesn’t think I’m a monster, I can’t be._


	3. Mirror - Falk x Detective Sophia Laveau

Sophia had just changed for bed, throwing on an oversized T-shirt over underwear, and was about to enter her bedroom when she felt a _presence_ in the room.

“I trust I am not intruding.”

Sophia whipped around, ready to smash the glass of water in her hand to use as a weapon…only to find [Falk ](https://lilyoffandoms.tumblr.com/post/626459965229596672/falk-by-delborovic-yall-should-go-check-em-out)looking irritatingly put-together, and she scowled before retreating back behind the counter island, affecting not to notice how his eyes lingered on her barely-hidden lean frame.

“He says, coming into my home at night unannounced.”

Falk bristled slightly at that, and Sophia winced. _Play nice, he hasn’t signed yet_.

“My apologies, Falk - it has been a long day.”

The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease at that, and he allowed himself a smile. “I wanted to ask you something. About the Agency.”

 _As if I know any more than you_. Sophia nodded in assent, gesturing to the couch and staying standing in the kitchen area. “Do you–want something to–” It had been so long since she had had anyone there other than Unit Bravo, and on the rare occasions that they wanted anything, they were perfectly capable of getting it themselves.

“No, but thank you for the offer.” He almost _purred_ the last word, and Sophia felt her breath stutter slightly. _Play nice_.

“Now, about your question…”

“Of course.” Here, on her couch, the leader of the Maa-alused seemed diminished somehow, as he ran a hand over his scalp. “What are your views on the Agency?”

 _Play nice_. It wouldn’t do for Falk to be told _everything_ she thought about the Agency, how she thought that their secrets were detrimental and their rigid procedures had the potential to cost lives. “They’re doing the best they can under difficult circumstances.”

“I see.” Do you? “Thank you, Detective.” He stood, then, and seemed to move towards the hall mirror but stopped just in front of her, grazing the back of her hand with one long index finger.

 _Play nice_.

“I have enjoyed our conversations, Sophia,” his tongue lingering long enough on her name to make her shiver with something she didn’t quite recognise, “and I hope we will be able to grow…closer in future.”

“So do I.” She managed to croak out, flushing at his smirk as he disappeared into the mirror.

She took care to cover any mirror she owned that night.


	4. Strong - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

Adam watches from a platform above as the Detective spars with Morgan, sharp grey eyes matching stormy ones and tracking imperceptible movements. _She told us she had experience_. And once again, Adam updates his mental notes on the Detective.

Despite her best efforts, however, the Detective– _Sophia_ –is clearly bruised…but unlike other humans, who might complain or even cry foul, Sophia laughs, even as she clutches her side, much to Adam’s alarm, and he feels his body jerk forward, ready to defend her.

_What am I doing?_

“ _I’m alright. Just an old scar_.” The Detective assures Mason, who looks uncharacteristically concerned, and Adam cannot help imagining what the scar looks like - is it ragged or neat, old or new (new, surely, if it still causes pain), where does it fall on Sophia’s torso…

“ _Then stop whining and get moving. We need to run through these drills before_ –” Mason senses another presence then, and winks imperceptibly at Adam, smirking at his answering frown.

Adam moves off of the platform, and goes to check on Nate, confident that the Detective is receiving adequate preliminary instruction before Adam returns to put her through her paces. She is strong in her way. Adam just hopes that that will be enough.


	5. Moon - Nat x Detective Petra Nikolic

Nat couldn’t help but worry about the Detective - Petra had struggled with nightmares of Murphy’s attack every night, and even as she insisted she was fine through gritted teeth, even as she refused help from Elidor (who may or may not have received a tip-off from Nat herself) - she carried on, holding herself to an impossibly high standard.

Nat followed Petra’s erratic heartbeat almost instinctively, weaving through corridors until she found her, and her shoulders sagged in relief as she saw her unharmed on the balcony, bathed in moonlight. She looked less _human_ in the light, more ethereal, with pale blonde hair catching the light and pale green eyes almost glowing as she looked at Nat uncertainly.

“I didn’t mean to wake anyone.” Ever formal, her voice was less steady than normal, and she didn’t seem to be able to hold Nat’s gaze.

“I was up. Got carried away in the library.” Nat smiled warmly, brown eyes searching Petra’s frame for any sign of physical distress. “I find it calms me.”

“Maybe I should join you.” Petra spoke quietly, but the reverberations that her words sent through Nat felt like a foghorn out at sea, calling her home.

Nat stood for a moment, unsure for the first time in decades, before laying a hand on Petra’s slender shoulder. Petra tensed at the touch at first, as she always did, but then–she relaxed into it, _leaning into Nat_ –

Shocked at the uncharacteristic acceptance and reciprocation of affection, Nat’s breath caught in her throat.

“I’ll get you an armchair. Nice, dark leather to match your aesthetic.” And Petra _laughed_ at that, the vibrations piercing Nat’s heart and releasing butterflies in her stomach that she didn’t even _try_ to contain.


	6. Broken - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

Sophia storms back into her office at the precinct, slamming the door behind her.

_“But you do have those feelings?” “No, I do not.”_

Her hands had been tense on the steering wheel for the drive back into town, and she had stalked back into town under a cloud, feeling the dribs and drabs of humanity part around her like the Red Sea.

_No, I do not._

A wordless howl as she launches a paperweight from her hand at the wall, feeling a dull thrum of satisfaction as it shatters from the force of her rage.

 _No, I do not_.

Heavy breaths are ripped out of her lungs, before she can even begin to calm herself, swearing softly at the mess as she gingerly picks shards of broken glass (broken like her) out of the thick carpet and wraps them in newspaper.

_No, I do not._

Wishing that it would be just as easy to dispose of her own broken shards and her own sharp edges.

 _No, I do not_.


	7. Sleep - Mason x Detective Riona Lovelace

Riona was built for many things - attracting people’s attention, their eyes, their hands. She was _not_ built for staying awake after sex with a vampire who was almost as insatiable as she was.

She had, therefore, become accustomed to waking up hours later, the ache between her legs still pleasurable yet insistent, to find Mason long gone, the sheets only just holding onto his scent.

So it was a shock to find him still with her by morning, hair splayed out on the pillow like a dark halo (fittingly dark, as she thought on the preceding night with a flush, pulse quickening at a memory that was more devilish than angelic). She spent a little longer watching him, committing all of his features to memory, cataloguing his freckles, finally succumbing to the temptation to brush her fingertips along his clavicle, not missing the quirk of his lips as he began to wake.

“I told you you couldn’t resist me, sweetheart.”

“I never pretended otherwise, darling.” And she had grown so accustomed to looking for something, _anything_ , in his glances that she felt her heart stutter at the softness, quickly hidden, in his eyes.


	8. Villain - Detective Mark Laurent x Nate (x Adam)

Sometimes, Adam can’t help but look at the pair of them, at the way Nate’s face lights up and his eyes sparkle like the Sun when he sees the Detective, at the way the Detective looks at Nate as if he hung the moon and gave the stars their lustre. And Adam can’t help but think that he must be the real villain.


	9. Fight - Nat x Detective Petra Nikolic

Nat remembers Petra saying to Farah how Rebecca had tried to interest her in gentler pursuits as a child, to dissuade her from the life that had swallowed her whole and taken her husband.

First came painting. Several formerly pristine white walls and a flustered nanny later, painting was off the menu.

Then came violin lessons. Several neighbour complaints and another nanny later, the violin was quietly put in a cupboard, never to be seen again.

But the dancing? The dancing had taken hold, even as Petra had taken up combat classes in college. And now, locked in a combative embrace that had Nat’s heart racing from more than exertion, Nat could see why.

Even now, Petra is still cool, still beautiful, only the flare of her nostrils revealing that they have been sparring for nearly an hour - Ava has been tied up in a meeting with Rebecca today, else she would be leading training. And Nat knows Ava well enough to know she has been impressed with Petra’s skill in the few sessions they have had together.

So caught up in thinking about Petra’s control and discipline (and wondering _just how far_ that control and discipline might stretch) is she that she misses Petra’s foot hooking around her ankle, bringing them both crashing to the mat, Petra straddling Nat’s hips.

Nat isn’t sure what part she likes best - the sensation of Petra warm and shaking slightly from exertion in her lap…or the way that Petra’s breath hitches and her heart quickens, before turning her long ~~beautiful~~ face away.

“We should…uh–”

“We should.” Even as Nat acquiesces, she can’t help the way her long fingers trail up and down Petra’s legs instinctively. Nor can she help the way those fingers clench in Petra’s thighs, holding her in place as she leans up for a kiss, given more than willingly, tongues picking up from where their sparring sticks, long since forgotten, left off.


	10. Blood - Felix x Detective Bess Broussard

Bess had never been hugely careful in her movements, wanting to make sure she did as much as possible in her job, knowing now just how much this town needed help. Careless paper cuts were hardly new.

But now, unease washed over her in waves - if her blood was potent enough to lower glamours when it was _inside_ her body, what would happen if–

She pushed the thoughts away into their usual corner, sucking at her thumb absentmindedly. Felix would have told her. And she let a little huff of laughter escape at the thought of Felix trying to keep a secret and carried on stacking her paperwork.


	11. Transformation - Detective Riona Lovelace

Riona wasn’t sure exactly why she was here.

It was Unit Alpha’s mission - but Rebecca had called her at the precinct this morning, telling her with a barely-concealed groan that they had specifically requested her presence.

“Why?”

“I’ll let Lesedi explain it to you later.”

Hours later, having had the day to mull it over, Riona left a note for Tina at the precinct to tell anyone from Unit Bravo she was with Unit Alpha (hoping against hope that it was Adam who picked up the message) and drove to the clearing Rebecca had described.

Lesedi greeted Riona warmly, and Tamiko looked her over appreciatively, noticeably sniffing the air, now saturated with her scent. There was a werewolf Riona didn’t recognise among the group, and Lesedi caught Riona’s eye before leading her aside.

“A werewolf member of a lower-ranking team has been having difficulty shifting. We’re hoping that your scent might calm him, as it does Tane and Maaka.”

“O…kay…” Riona answered almost painfully slowly, looking at the boy (and he _was_ a boy, surely - even Douglas looked more mature), then back at Lesedi, offering a consenting nod.

She gulped at Lesedi’s answering smile, almost a snarl.

“Let’s get started.”


	12. Flesh - Detective Sophia Laveau (x Adam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: body image mention

Sophia looked in the gym changing room mirror again, pushing and pulling at the fleshy part of her belly under her sports bra. From the pictures she had of her father, they had similar body shapes - flat stomach, broad, square shoulders, snake hips. Appraising her body wasn’t new.

What was new was the idea that other people might look at her body with something other than mild, detached interest in their eyes.

Falk had made no secret of his interest in her (however baffling) - and her fingers froze in place as she wondered just how far Falk’s reach extended, whether he could see–

She moved away from the mirror then, suddenly shy as she hugged her bare stomach protectively.

But it had been _Adam’s_ eyes on her today, when he had thought she wasn’t looking - he had looked almost in pain as his eyes moved as gently and intimately as a caress down her body. The moment had shattered like glass when his eyes met hers, and she thought his jaw might shatter from the force with which he clenched his teeth, that he might give himself whiplash from the speed with which he averted his gaze.

And after all her examinations, she couldn’t understand _why_.


	13. Apology - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau (feat. Mason)

Adam du Mortain wouldn’t know an apology if he sat on one, and it showed.

Mason had been watching him spar verbally (and, at one memorable moment, nearly _physically_ ) with Detective Laveau (who was bleating about how she was _perfectly_ capable, and oh-so-very- _tired_ of being treated like a baby) for the best part of an hour.

But there came a point, quite unexpectedly, where there was a lull in the argument and they stared at each other. The air around them was thick with tension, and Mason– _Mason_ , who considered flustering other people to be a personal talent–felt _uncomfortable_ with the electricity that arced between them.

 _Just fuck, already_. Before Mason could process whether he had said that out loud in Adam’s earshot–remembering the lecture he had earned the _last_ time–he sped away, resolving to find some new, pretty, young thing to wash their tension off of him.


	14. Throat: Nat x Detective Petra Nikolic (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Petra was calm, and cool, and collected. Except, when she wasn’t.

Sometimes, _only_ sometimes, her control slipped, and her lips, unrestrained, _uncaged_ , burned like wildfire on Nat’s skin.

Sometimes, _only_ sometimes, Petra would murmur terms of endearment into the soft skin at Nat’s belly, before making Nat growl in frustration as she moved back up and away from where Nat needed her most.

Sometimes, _only_ sometimes, Petra would try to mark Nat as thoroughly as Nat was blessed to do the other way around, sucking at her throat hard enough to make Nat gasp and make her eyes flutter shut.


	15. Empty - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Empty (Day 18)  
> Part 1 of "His eyes had drunk her beauty up"

Sophia had thought that she would never have as incompetent a subordinate as Douglas. Then, she met Lacey, who seemed so fundamentally incapable that she had forgotten to buy milk for their empty communal fridge for the third day in a row.

It wasn’t just that she didn’t seem cognitively capable of doing what was, ultimately, a very simple job. It was the way people treated her.

Felix and Nate had gifted her with ready smiles, as they would have anyone - no harm, no foul. But Mason had looked almost wolfish when he had looked at her. And Adam?

Adam had  _ smiled _ at Lacey, flashing dimples Sophia had never even seen before, and she didn’t like to think about why that felt like a knife to the gut.

_ To be continued... _


	16. Enchantment - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence  
> Prompt: Enchantment (Day 24)  
> Part 2 of "His eyes had drunk her beauty up"

Sophia is used to Adam’s dismissive attitude - but he has never threatened her with violence. Quite the opposite - he has seen any kind of violence to her person as some kind of personal affront.

So Sophia is  _ surprised _ more than anything when, in anger, he slams her against the wall with enough force to bruise.

“You always think you’re so  _ independent _ .” His voice is curiously flat, even as he pins her against the wall with enough force to bruise, enough to  _ break _ , green eyes hazy as if seeing through fog. Whatever thoughts are running through Sophia’s mind, they stop in their tracks as his grip on the hollow of her throat tightens painfully.

“Adam, you’re hurting me.” There is a panic that Sophia hasn’t felt around any supernatural before coursing through her veins. Whether it’s the fact that she said his name for, she thinks, the first time without the threat of external danger or whether he can smell the fear on her like perfume, he releases her then as if what he has done has burned him and her knees almost buckle.

They look at each other mutely for a moment, an expression she can’t identify in his now-clear emerald eyes. But then she touches the marks he has left on her neck, angry and painful as venom, and suddenly she finds she can’t bear to look at him and pushes past him, missing the way he reaches for her helplessly, saying her name like it’s a prayer.

_ To be continued... _


	17. Feral - Adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Feral (Day 15)  
> Part 3 of "His eyes had drunk her beauty up"

It was Mason speeding past muttering curse words that first alerted Nate that something was wrong. Then Felix racing to catch up to Mason, pausing only to grip Nate’s elbow painfully and look deep into his eyes.

“You need to _do_ something.”

A howl from the training room made Nate look up and race to the source of the noise.

The training room…was barely worth the name anymore, training dummies eviscerated and walls beginning to crack.

Adam was looking wildly around the room for a new target - seeing only Nate, his shoulders sagged, and what strength had been holding him up seemed to dissolve, and he fell to his knees.

“Adam.” Nate’s voice was soft as velvet as he tried to encourage Adam to look up at him. “Adam, what–”

Nate stopped at the look on Adam’s face, then - he looked _lost_ , more vulnerable than Nate had seen him in nearly 400 years, and whatever platitudes he had been about to use to soothe died in his throat.

“Adam.” Nate wrapped his arms around Adam for the first time in about 200 years then, and waited for his much-vaunted control to return - and found himself unwilling and unable to imagine what might happen if it did not.

_To be continued..._


	18. Veil - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence  
> Prompt: Veil (Day 29)  
> Part 4 of "His eyes had drunk her beauty up"

It has taken Sophia weeks of research - difficult when Nate had abruptly decided that she was not to be trusted - but she has found the passage and the spell, and the fact that it requires her blood honestly should not surprise her at this point.

Now, seeing Lacey’s face contort and her legs fuse into a scaled tail--the tail of a  _ Lamia _ \--it is like a veil has been lifted. Felix and Nate are aghast, Mason looks like he might vomit and--

Adam is  _ enraged _ , and moves faster than she’s ever seen him. When he is visible to her human eyes again, the Lamia’s-- _ Lacey’s _ \--heart is in his fist, and she slumps almost comically slowly to the ground.

Then, all four of them are  _ looking _ at Sophia, and there’s a guilt there she can’t describe. The other three had been foul in their own ways, true enough, but she can feel Adam’s eyes trace the just-visible bruises he had gifted her the other day under the Lamia’s influence and she wants to  _ die _ .

“Sophia.” Adam’s voice is clear, devoid of whatever fog had settled over him in Lacey’s-- _ the Lamia’s _ \--presence, and she feels herself wilt a little under the intensity of his gaze. “Detective, I--”

“Let’s just say it was women’s intuition and call it a day.” She brushes off Nate’s concerned looks and Felix’s hand on her shoulder, returning alone to the safety of the silver hatchback hugging herself for warmth, to guard against the chill of vulnerability and  _ loneliness  _ that has settled in her bones.

_ To be continued... _


	19. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Halloween  
> (Look I got over-excited okay)  
> Part 5 of "His eyes had drunk her beauty up"

Adam isn’t sure why he’s here, outside Officer Poname’s townhouse, which seems itself to be vibrating from the force of the techno music thrumming throughout. Then he remembers the fog that had descended over his senses, remembers watching himself--

He needs to make sure she is alright, as a member of the team. It’s his duty.

 _You have a funny way of showing it_. A little, accusing voice that sounds almost like hers rings in the back of his mind, clear as a bell, and he can see the bruises he left on her while he was--while that thing--

Loathing spreads through his body like a plume of smoke, still present even after ripping the training room to shreds, and he nearly turns on his heel to leave. She deserves to be happy, to enjoy her friends and her humanity and her _life_ , and he--well, he has already shown her in glorious technicolour that he cannot be part of that no matter how much he _wants_ \--

But he owes her an apology at the very least, so he straightens his shoulders and knocks at the door…

...to find Officer Poname ( _Tina_ , he remembers the Detective scowling at him, _her name is Tina_ ) in a skirt so short it could be best be described as a belt, long legs on full display as she purrs at Adam, from under cat ears and simple whiskers drawn on in mascara, clearly already having partaken in her own alcohol.

“Come in, Agent. Your costume is looking _wonderful_.”

“My--” Adam pauses for a moment, having forgotten that humans dressed as the supernatural - one of life’s ironies - and awkwardly clears his throat. “My thanks, Off--Tina.”

“Feel free to rub elbows with Wayhaven’s finest.” She gestures then with her glass to the sea of costumed humanity sprawling through the house, and he feels his stomach sink, before he catches _her_ scent, warm and spiced and so very _her_ , through the crowd and follows it as best he can through the drunken revellers.

He is losing count of the number of couples he has barrelled into, or interrupted at a crucial moment, before he extricates himself from the mass of bodies in the house, looks around the garden and sees--

Adam feels his heart seize for a moment as he takes her in, _all_ of her, from the pointed tips of black leather boots, up lean legs displayed to him for the first time, past the skirt and petticoat that graze toned thighs, past the corset that shows her hips and waist to their fullest advantage, past her _bodice_ \--

Even after 900 years, his body grapples with breaths he no longer needs, lets his tongue dart out to wet his inexplicably dry lips, and he opens his mouth to call to her--

But she looks so _happy_ , laughing with Verda (and he tries and fails to ignore the way her rare laughter, even from this distance, reverberates through his ribcage), that he cannot bear the thought of her happiness dying in her throat the way it has been since he _hurt her_.

And suddenly it’s too much, he feels like _he_ is choking, on the guilt that has wracked him since falling prey to enchantment and on the way that she can unravel him without even looking at him behind goggles that obscure cool grey eyes that never fail to heat his skin. He turns abruptly and stalks back through the house, moving with as much grace as a battering ram.

It’s only when he gulps in air that hasn’t been invaded by her scent that he feels his head stop swimming, and he leans against the wall of the house for support for just a moment, before straightening his spine and starting to--

“What was _that_?” Her voice is sharp, and her scent overwhelms him as if it were the first time.

“Good evening, Detective.” If her voice is sharp, his is _broken_ , and he fights to gather up enough of the shards so he can pretend that nothing is amiss. “I did not want to intrude upon your evening - you looked--” _radiant_ “like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I _was_ .” He turns then to see her, hands on her hips, and his breaths are shallow again, against his will. “Is there a problem?” Grey eyes search his face, and seem to see _something_ there, and Adam freezes, hoping that she did not see _that_ , because _that_ cannot be, cannot happen between--

“No problem. I merely--” The words catch in his throat - the Agency doesn’t train its operatives on how to apologise for succumbing to enchantment and endangering another’s life, and apologies do not come naturally to him at the best of times - and he flounders.

“I merely wanted to see you. To see that you are well.” His eyes graze her neck, purple just visible through the make-up there, and flick to the floor as if the sight burns him, and she steps closer to him in answer.

“I _am_ , Adam. It was an enchantment. That you snapped out of it,” _before you killed me_ goes without saying, but it ricochets around Adam’s brain like a bullet nevertheless, “was the main thing.” Maybe it is the fact that her breath is lightly spiced with rum, but her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes wide with dark pupils as she looks at him.

“I swore I would protect you.” He feels almost as if he is under another, entirely different enchantment, seeing his hand move of its own accord to cup the blush of colour in her cheek, feeling it bloom into an inferno against his palm as his thumb brushes the corner of her lips.

And his heart stutters and stops as she, still looking into his soul, turns her head to the side to softly kiss his palm and then nuzzle deeper into his hold, reaching for him--

But he is no longer there, speeding back to the Warehouse, touching his hand as if he has held the Sun there.

_Fin_


	20. Grief - Detective Riona Lovelace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, "why Riona loves the silver hatchback"

“So…what are you saying?” Riona tries to keep her voice level, but Clay’s face softens as he hears the muted distress lacing her voice.

“There’s nothing I can do, princess. Gone for good.”

Half an hour later, Riona is still sitting in her car across the street from Clay’s forecourt staring fixedly at the cassette player in the silver hatchback, silently begging it to return the cassette.

 _The_ cassette.

The only one she has of her father’s voice.

Rook had had a lovely singing voice - and on _the_ cassette, he is singing along to some of his favourite songs, a musical offering that he had made for Rebecca to play for Riona while Rebecca was still pregnant and he had been away doing God knows what, with God knows _whom_.

It had been stupid to take the cassette out in the car, instead of keeping it safe at home. But Riona had been hit with the urge this morning to have her father with her, even after 16 years of absence, and it is all she can do now to choke back a sob at the thought that her recklessness has cost her the last vestiges of her father’s presence.

Riona hesitantly runs her fingers along the slit of the cassette player, before taking a shuddering breath, pressing play…

…and hearing _his_ voice, rich and clear as ever, crooning a verse of Moon River.

 _I’ll have this car for life_ , Riona decides abruptly, with all the confidence of her 18 years, closing her eyes and letting herself imagine what it would be like to hear his voice in real life.


	21. AU - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cursed frog!AU no one (well, maybe two or three people) asked for

It had been two months since Unit Bravo arrived in Wayhaven at Rebecca’s request to research the Detective’s cursed blood and protect her from any assailants. Frogs were typically ill-equipped to fend off most supernaturals.

Nate had been watching them for about an hour, Adam’s face barely shifting as he telepathically conversed with the Detective, until the most extraordinary (relatively speaking, when watching a vampire stare a frog for an hour) thing happened.

Adam _laughed_.

It started as a bark, loud and harsh to Nate’s ears, unfamiliar like a car alarm. Then softened into a warm chuckle, almost continuous, which ebbed and flowed in response to whatever the Detective had _said_ in the recesses of his mind.


	22. Fear - Mason x Detective Riona Lovelace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: Fear

Mason has felt fear before, of course - with the kinds of missions that Unit Bravo completed, fear is almost a given.

But this fear feels different, constricting, _raw_ in ways that Mason doesn’t like to think about too much, preferring to leave them to grow like mushrooms in the dark corners of his mind.

Riona was _missing_.

The team has already done a sweep of the town, finding nothing but a faint scent in Haley’s. Even now, back at _her_ apartment, Mason can’t bring himself to feel any regret over the mild terror on Haley’s face when he had snarled at her because Riona was _missing_ and–

 _There_. A scent, growing stronger as that _rust bucket_ pulls up outside and she walks out as if _nothing_ has happened, and it’s all he can do to wait restlessly for her to come in.

“Mason!” Riona has the _audacity_ to seem surprised at his presence, and she babbles on. “My phone ran out and I had to–” She stops abruptly as Mason seizes her, holding her in an embrace tight enough to knock the air from her lungs.

“Don’t do that again.” Mason, already normally taciturn, can barely say more than a syllable at a time. Hospital paperwork falls forgotten to the floor as she cards diminutive fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and he buries his head in the crook where delicate throat and soft shoulder meet.

“Do what? Mason, I–” Her voice is tight with worry now, and he burrows in deeper, deep enough that they could almost fuse into one person.

“Leave.” Her heart sings for him, and her arms tighten, such as they can, around him, humming happily and making the last of his fear dissolve like snow in sunlight.


	23. Window - Nat x Detective Petra Nikolic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Window - slight nsfw

Nat has discovered _Titanic_ , and has fallen in love in a way that makes Petra almost jealous.

One morning - their first free morning in about a month - Petra is in bed, sketching absentmindedly, bringing shapes to life one flick of her wrist at a time, when Nat comes into her line of sight and Petra--

Petra _short-circuits_.

Nat’s robe is untied, and what little there is under the robe is skimpy enough that Petra blushes and averts her eyes, even now, months into their relationship.

Petra feels long, strong fingers tip her chin up so that cool, green eyes can meet warm, brown ones and she feels her cheeks flush at the dangerous glint in Nat’s eyes.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.”

A choked laugh is all Petra can offer at that, and, trying to regain some control over her traitorous heart, she gestures as calmly as she can manage at the bay window.

The soft light from the window illuminates equally soft features and lush curves, which Petra already knows that she won’t be able to capture as perfectly as she would like. _Titian and Rosetti could not do justice to Nat_. Nat, who is now sans robe and stripped to the waist, tracing shapes on soft skin with elegant fingers as she waits, watching like a hawk, for Petra’s patience to _snap_.

She need not wait long.


	24. Filthy - Mason x Detective Riona Lovelace

“Sweetie, _no_.” Mason can hear Riona behind him, trying and failing to sound disappointed in whatever sight she has been met with.

He turns slightly from preparing the food he won’t eat and sees a little girl– _their_ little girl with his freckles and Riona’s warm hazel eyes–covered head to toe in icing sugar.

Riona is biting the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to be bad cop against her nature (they all know, even little Alina, that Mason will be powerless against fluttering eyelashes and a pout that perfectly imitates her mother’s).

“Sweetie, you’re _filthy_.” Riona tuts and points towards the bathroom, and Alina bounces there, tiny feet barely touching the ground.

Once dinner has been inhaled (for someone who never eats, his cooking is, apparently, more than edible) and their little girl is safely in bed, Riona turns to him on the couch and the breath that he doesn’t need rushes from his lungs at the sight of her, still soft and beautiful and his, even after _everything_.

Her lips are on his before even he can process it, and his mouth opens in surprise, allowing her tongue entry. A moan escapes him before he can help it, and Riona’s tongue licks into his mouth, demanding, _wanting_.

With a speed she still cannot track, he flips them over so he is hovering above her (not quite touching, knowing that that alone is enough to drive her _mad_ ), smiles softly at the way her hips cant upwards, seeking his warmth, and leans forward to rumble in her ear.

“Now who’s filthy?”


	25. Unkempt - Adam x Detective Mark Laurent (x Nate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Unkempt

The Detective has never dressed himself in what Adam would consider to be a professional - or, indeed, _practical_ \- way, instead draping his narrow frame in cable-knit sweaters and scarves that were long enough to be more of a hazard than any meaningful protection against the cold.

But today was excessive.

Green eyes are drawn against their will to the crooked neckline of the oversized sweater, the jeans hastily pulled on over narrow hips, the tousled copper curls which look soft enough to drown in.

And the unmistakable scent of _Nate_ rolling off of him in waves.

Detective Laurent freezes when he sees Adam, and offers a warm smile which makes Adam’s heart ache even as it flutters around the edges.

“Adam.” Adam stops when he hears his name from Mark’s lips, and is only able to offer a single word in return.

“Detective.” And then Adam is angry, in a way that he doesn’t want to describe, has no _right_ to even try and describe. “I would endeavour to remind you that we expect more professionalism at the Agency.”

Mark’s face falls, and Adam relishes this pain, drinks it in, _deserves_ it.

“I–I will endeavour to remember that.” Mark’s voice is barely a whisper, and golden eyes are lowered to the floor. “I…apologise.”

Adam needs to _leave_ , but his eyes cannot stop tracing the shape of Mark’s jaw, and with a mute horror he realises that his finger, quite without him realising, has hooked itself under Mark’s chin and is lifting teal eyes to meet green.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Adam promises in a low voice, and his breath hitches at the way Mark’s lips part slightly.

“Adam…” Mark’s voice is, if possible, quieter still, and Adam wants to growl at the way Mark’s pupils have blown wide, black swallowing the sometimes-blue-sometimes-green but he cannot because Mark is–

Because Mark is _Nate’s_. Nate, who will coddle him and support him and adore him in all the ways Adam has long forgotten how to do, in all the ways Mark _craves_. And Adam snatches his hand back, rushes his goodbye and speeds out to do another unnecessary patrol, instead of looking at the way Mark’s face has crumbled.


	26. Vengeful - Mason x Detective Riona Lovelace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Vengeful

Mason’s arm is draped loosely over Riona’s shoulders as they walk through town, ignoring as best they could the curious eyes of the other people on the street, and she smiles at the sensation of his fingers curling into her sweater.

“I like this sweater.” Mason smirks somewhere close to her temple. “It’ll look even better once I get you home.” Riona can feel her cheeks blaze at the _promise_ in his tone, and she swats half-heartedly at his shoulder.

Her protest is only performative, and they walk more quickly now, at least until they reach the corner to the police station and find–

Bobby’s car, expensive and well-maintained, with all the memories that brings, and she cannot help the way her chest muscles tighten and her fists clench.

Mason takes in her anxiety in one sweeping glance and smoothes his hand down her arm.

“I don’t know why he’s here.” Riona feels almost consumed by the need to reassure, even though Mason has never asked for it (at least, not out loud), and she allows genuine affection to soften her tight, fake smile.

“I have an idea.” Mason’s smile is _wicked_ , and enough to turn her knees to jelly, something that does not go unnoticed.

“I’m listening.” She manages to squeak.

“Key it.”

_What?_

His huff of laughter is the only sign that she did in fact give voice to her surprise. “Key his car.”

“I can’t just–” Riona waves her hands vaguely…but she remembers how much Bobby loves his car, more than he had ever loved her (more, she suspects, than he had ever loved _anything_ ), and she finds the idea more and more tempting by the second.

It is Mason’s rumbling against the shell of her ear that makes the last shreds of her resistance crumble and disintegrate.

“Who’s going to arrest you?”


	27. Decay - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: descriptions of body horror  
> Part 1 of The long hours pass away

It is the fourth day since the Trappers took Sophia. Unit Omicron have heard nothing from their underworld contacts, and Adam wonders, not for the first time, why the Agency still allows one of their units to fraternise with such–

_We are running out of time. **I** am running out of time._

He has been ordered to sleep, told that he will be no good to the Detective– _Sophia_ , and even her name tastes like failure–if he is dead on his feet, and apparently his body agrees, dragging him into a deep sleep against his will, like quicksand.

_He is in a clearing, one he does not recognise, and before he can ponder where he is, he is hit by the unmistakable stench of decay. In his dream, as in real life, his need to be vigilant, born in part out of a curiosity he could never tame, drags his feet closer to the source against his will, until he is standing at the edge of a deep ravine. Picking his way cautiously down the bank, he enters the middle of the ditch, stopping when his foot meets the hard edge of a trap door._

_Adam hears screaming, and realises it is he who is screaming from some other corner of his mind, begging himself not to open it - but his muscles do not listen, and he rips the door off its hinges and is hit again with the force of a thousand freight trains._

_Because the stench of decay is intertwined with **her** heady scent, still sweet and spiced under the horror._

_He is trying to wake himself up now, can feel the edges of his dream blur as he resists, but his feet won’t stop, **can’t** stop. He has never been able to stop himself when it comes to her, no matter how hard he has tried._

_There is a bundle below, and he lifts the edge of the blanket gingerly and nearly collapses with relief when he sees her face, cheeks flushed and eyes fluttering as if in sleep. He takes her in his arms and enjoys her warmth for a moment._

_Then–_

_She is cold, so cold, and the flush in her cheeks has grown stagnant, veins brown and marbling, and he touches her face, then rubs his hands up and down her arms futilely to bring back the warmth he has loved since the first time he saw her._

_When the flesh sloughs from her arm, he screams and cannot stop, even as her cheeks hollow and her skull bursts through, he cannot stop screaming and holding her close enough that the sharp edges of her skeleton cut into his ribcage–_

“Adam!” Nate is scared, more scared than he has heard him since they met, and he realises that he is back in his bed, the air clean (and once more he feels bereft without the scent of honey and ginger to guide him) and the rest of his team crowded around his bed, even Mason with a small furrow on his brow.

His jaw is clenched, and he cannot decide if he wants to vomit or howl.

“We’ve wasted enough time. We have to find her. Now.”

_To be continued…_


	28. Past - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of The long hours pass away

Unit Omicron seem to have finally done their damn jobs, and Units Bravo and Alpha (and any number of lone field agents, too numerous to name) are en route to the location extracted from their latest source. Alpha are, mercifully, somewhere else (Adam can’t bring himself to care where), while Bravo travel with Agent Laveau in the main convoy.

The silence is oppressive, even more so after Rebecca snapped at Felix for drumming his fingers against his leg, and Adam closes his eyes, unable to burn the image from his dream away.

Adam can feel Nate’s eyes on him, concerned and watchful, and he turns to face him.

“Speak.” The command is quiet, too quiet for Rebecca to hear from the front passenger seat, and Nate responds even more quietly, were that even possible.

“What will you do when we find her?”

 _What indeed_. Adam had sprung into action after watching the manifestation of all his fears, and had all but demolished the training room all over again, wild with regret, feeling it eat him from the inside out.

He has wanted her since before there was a _her_ to want, all her beauty and her sharp edges, and sometimes he thinks that might be punishment enough. _(Though if he has more dreams like that, he may revise that assessment)_ He cannot have her, for she is not _his_ to have, and wanting will not change it. She deserves the world, not a man (barely a man) who has sinned so thoroughly that he still feels the burn of Falk’s judgement, even now.

They pull up without warning, and Adam feels his redundant breath constrict in his throat like steel cables.

His dream, still raw and howling, comes crashing back, another echo from a past he would cut his heart out to forget.

They are _here_. In the clearing.

Ignoring the orders to hold back, his feet carry him down the ravine just as they had under cover of darkness, fumbling feet finding the same trap door and ripping it off his hinges as he had the night before, and the Trappers are not ready for him, could not possibly be, and he wonders abstractly if he is like an artist, painting the earthen walls with their lifeblood.

She is not bundled up in this waking nightmare, but she is cold all the same, and he tries to stop his ragged breaths so that he can hear–

 _Her heartbeat_.

He gathers her into his arms with gentleness fit for a babe, cradles her to his chest and lets trembling fingers brush her raven fringe away from fluttering eyelids, smiling at her sigh - considering, for a moment, never letting go. He jumps out from what might have been her grave and hands her to Elidor with a reluctance that makes Rebecca’s eyebrows shoot up underneath her bangs.

And he finds that he can cope with whatever ills his past has wrought, if she is yet in his future.

_To be continued…_


	29. Night - Adam x Detective Sophia Laveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of The long hours pass away

Even in the brightly lit infirmary of the Agency, even though she remains in a sleep induced by an unholy-looking cocktail, Sophia seems to be able to sense that it is night, and her restless murmurs become moans as she succumbs to nightmares. If they are anything like the one she had induced in Adam that night, he aches for her, even more than he already does.

Sophia seems to be able to sense when members of Unit Bravo are around her, and Adam thinks he might have seen the ghost of a smile on her lips when Adam read aloud from the bedtime story Nate had forced into his hands, voice stilted and intonation almost flat. Then again, it’s entirely possible that this is a withdrawal reaction, that he is finally losing his mind after having been denied her quips and scowls and rare, infuriating, _beautiful_ grins for nearly two weeks.

Another morning, maybe two mornings after (he finds it difficult to count when he is here with her in this most featureless of rooms, as he has been for most of the last 10 days), Adam is busy cataloguing the freckles around her nose and the growing crows-feet around her eyes and the soft, fine lines of her lips when he catches her stir. One of her fingers moves imperceptibly. Then again.

Adam calls hoarsely for Elidor, shouts until Elidor all but charges into the room (and Adam marvels, not for the first time, at how despite her brutal wit and jagged edges she has made everyone fall at her feet). Adam resists the order to leave with a low snarl, and is rewarded when she opens her eyes mere moments later and she sees him and _smiles_ and he thinks his heart might burst.

Sophia holds her hand out to Adam in mute appeal, and he cannot resist her pull at the best of times ( _weak_ ), let alone when she is like this (because of _his_ failure to protect her). He takes her hand in two of his, wincing slightly at how thin they feel against his larger palms.

“Hey.” Her voice is gravelly, but it is _her_ , and he scans her eyes for any pain and finds only curiosity and something else which makes his chest tighten.

“Hello.” Adam cannot help his smile then, a dimpled grin breaking through his usual mask, and she seems stunned, bringing her other hand up to cup his cheek in awe.

“So that’s what they look like.” He flushes at the feel of her hand on his cheek, of her thumb pressing gently into his dimple. Just a tinge of pink staining his alabaster cheeks, but it is enough for her as her grip on his hand tightens. “Thank you. For–”

“Gladly.” Adam’s voice is quiet, and he hopes that the emotions he feels clawing at his belly are being expressed in his eyes, for he thinks his voice might shatter if he tries to speak again. He turns his head slowly, letting his breath ghost across the sensitive skin of her palm as he plants a small, chaste kiss there, and he thinks the fingers of his left hand, the hand she is holding, might shatter as she grips him, willing him to stay.

So, he stays.


	30. Wolf - Mason x Detective Riona Lovelace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This was Day 19 but oops I forgot to post it here)

Tina has always enjoyed working in the precinct - she likes feeling like she can help people, and the fact that the precinct is directly opposite the fire station certainly doesn’t help.

But now that the agents are here? The entertainment just doesn’t stop.

For Tina, of course, having four strapping hunks wandering around has been nothing short of a revelation - her uniform has never been so well taken care of, and her hair is always just so, just in case any of them forget their seemingly iron-clad professionalism for a moment or ten. For Riona…well, there’s been a bounce in her step from more than the changing weather, and Tina suspects (although does not know for sure, and it hurts more than she likes to admit that Riona has not said) that Mason, the quietest of the four, is the source.

If Tina has previously been in any doubt, that doubt vanishes when, having completed all of her tasks for the day, she takes the opportunity to watch him watching Riona, and–

Mason’s eyes are dragging down Riona’s curves (the same curves that Tina has coveted in more ways than one) like he wishes his hands were on her, lingering on the flare of her hips and the swell of her backside. And then? He _grins_ to himself, and Tina thinks she might faint from the heat there, wolfish and _wanting_ , and she cannot help but lean over to Riona.

“You’ve caught someone’s eye, then.” She whispers conspiratorially, and Riona cocks her head in bemusement.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. He’s been looking at you all morning like he wants to do very naughty things to you right… _there_.” Tina picks out a specific, roomy-looking desk and points at it with a squint designed to make Riona laugh. Tina flushes when she obliges, and almost laughs herself when Riona turns to find that look still in Mason’s eyes and turns crimson.

And as Riona approaches the wolf’s den, Tina pats herself on the back and smiles smugly to herself. _All in a day’s work_.


End file.
